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THE PRIMARY SOCIAL STUDIES SERIES 


NIXIE BUNNY IN HOLIDAY-LAND 



I 












































































NIXIE BUNNY 
HOLIDAY-LAND 


BY 

JOSEPH C. SINDELAR 



ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
HELEN GERALDINE HODGE 


CHICAGO 

BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY 


TZ7 

.$ 6/5 





Copyright, 1915, by 
JOSEPH C. SINDELAR 

All rights reserved 


Printed in U. S. A. 




To 

ROBERT JOSEPH 
a little boy 
who has seen his 
first round of holidays 
this book 

is fondly dedicated 
by his father 















CONTENTS 

CHAPTER 

Introduction. 

I Nixie Bunny . 

II Labor Town. 

III A Little Boy of Long Ago . . . 

IV The Brave Captain. 

V Halloween . 

VI Indian Days. 

VII Nixie’s Story of the Pilgrims. 
VIII The First Thanksgiving Day. . 

IX In Santa-Claus Land. 

X The Real Christmas Story. . . . 

XI A Happy New Year. 

XII A Sleigh-Ride. 

XIII How Abraham Grew Up. 

XIV Saint Valentine’s Day. 

XV February Twenty^-second. 

XVI Mr. Easter Rabbit. 

XVII The Trees and the Birds. 



page 


9 

13 

19 

25 

31 

39 

45 

53 

59 

65 

73 

81 

87 

93 

99 

105 

113 

119 


7 






















XVIII The Two May Queens. 125 

XIX The Peace Angel and the Eagle— I.... 131 

XX The Peace Angel and the Eagle— II. . . 137 

. XXI The Flag of the United States. 143 

XXII The Flag’s Party. 149 

XXIII The Fourth of July. 153 

XXIV Home Again. 157 

A Word About the Book. 159 


8 








INTRODUCTION 


Happy is the child who strays 
Into the Land of Holidays! 

Where, surely as the sun arises, 

Each new day brings its surprises. 

In the pleasant Autumn weather 
Holidays bloom close together; 

And the Winter, cold and dreary, 

Is made by them quite bright and cheery. 

Happy is the child who strays 
Into the Land of Holidays! 

There are many gardens neat, 

Where each flower’s a story sweet. 

As for flowers the Spring’s the season, 
So, be it by rime or reason, 

Holidays are then the cheeriest, 

Though in Summer they are merriest. 


9 






















































































Come, it is a pleasant day, 

Let us go far, far away. 

Here are your bonnet and my cap, 
There’s our satchel, here our map,— 
On the map you trace your way 
Through the Land of Holiday. 


11 






I’m Mr. Nixie Bunny; 

My home is in this book. 

Now, do you think that funny?— 
Just stop and take a look! 

And here is Mrs. Bunny, 

Good Mrs. Cottontail. 

To you it may seem funny,— 
But this book is our tale. 


12 


































































NIXIE BUNNY IN HOLIDAY-LAND 


I 

NIXIE BUNNY 

Nixie Bunny was a rabbit. He was a 
cottontail rabbit. His full name was Nixie 
Bunny Cottontail. 

Nixie lived on a farm with his wife and 
his son Thumpy, and his daughter, Bunny 
Girl. 

Their home was in Workaday-Land. 

The Nixie Bunny Cottontails had another 
son, Spotty, who was married. He had a 
home of his own. It was next door to his 
father’s house. 

Nixie Bunny had been a farmer for a 
long time, or what is a long time in a 
rabbit’s life. 

He had had to work very hard, and had 
found little time to go visiting. 

But now that the children were grown, 


13 


Nixie thought he would like to make a 
visit to some far country. 

He and Mrs. Cottontail had read of a 
country called Holiday-Land. 

They had often talked of visiting there, 
but they never seemed ready to set out. 

Then, one day, something happened which 
made Nixie decide to go. 

Early one spring morning, Mrs. Cotton¬ 
tail had gone over to see what the Spotty 
Cottontails were doing. 

And what do you suppose she found at 
their house? 

I know you can’t guess, so I will tell 
you. 

Mrs. Cottontail found two pretty new 
baby rabbits! 

They had come to the home of Mr. and 
Mrs. Spotty Cottontail in the night. 

And the Spotty Cottontails were so 
pleased, that they were going to have the 
baby rabbits live with them always. 

When Mrs. Cottontail returned home, she 
said to Nixie, “I have a surprise for you. 


14 


You are now Grandpa Cottontail! Two 
of the dearest little rabbits have come to 
live with Spotty and his wife!” 

Just think of it! Nixie Bunny a grandpa! 
And he was not yet five years old! 

I can tell you, though, that he was glad! 

“That settles it!” he said. 

“Settles what?” asked Mrs. Cottontail in 
surprise. 

“That settles it!” Nixie said again. “As 
soon as the little Cottontails are old 
enough, we will take them with us to 
Holiday-Land.” 

“So at last we are going, are we?” Mrs. 
Cottontail laughed. “Well, I am glad of 
that. 

I am sure the little folks will enjoy 
it, too.” 

“I believe Thumpy and Bunny Girl can 
manage the farm until we come back,” 
said Nixie. 

Bunny Girl said the baby boy rabbit 
looked like his grandfather, Nixie Bunny 
Cottontail. 


15 



So they named him Nixie Bunny Cotton¬ 
tail Junior. 

But he had such merry brown eyes that 
every one called him Browny. 

The other baby rabbit was a little girl, 
and they named her Molly, for her mother. 

You can see by the picture what pretty 
little rabbits these two were. 

Browny and Molly grew fast. 

In a very few weeks they were able to 
run about and play with other rabbits. 

They were old enough, too, to eat the 
green things from the garden. 


16 















But when they were four months old 
(which is not so very young for a rabbit), 
Browny and Molly said good-by to their 
mother and father and Bunny Girl and 
Thumpy. 

Then off they started for Holiday-Land 
with Grandma and Grandpa Nixie. 



17 















One day we packed our satchels 
And we went to Labor Town; 
There we saw a big procession, 
Parading up and down. 


18 
























II 


LABOR TOWN 

It was on a Monday that the Cottontails 
reached Holiday-Land. 

It was the first Monday in September. 

The place at which they stopped was 
called Labor Town. 

The first thing the Cottontails did was 
to have their breakfast. 

Then Nixie hired an automobile. He 
drove the car, and Grandma and Browny 
and Molly sat behind, and off they went. 

“Oh, Grandpa!” cried Browny. “Look at 
the crowd! Look—at—the—crowd!” 

What a lot of bunnies there were! There 
were large bunnies, middle-sized bunnies, 
small bunnies, and little bits of bunnies. 

It looked as though the whole town were 
on the streets. 

“Why are all these bunnies here?” asked 

Molly. 


19 


“Don’t you know?” asked Grandma Cot¬ 
tontail, as she looked in her notebook. 
“What day of the week is it?” 

“Monday,” said Molly. 

“But why should there be such a crowd 
on the streets on Monday?” asked Browny. 
“I thought people had to work on Monday.” 

“So they do,” said Grandpa Nixie. “But 
you forget you are in Holiday-Land now. 
There is to be a parade to-day.” 

“Whose birthday is it?” asked Molly. 

“It is Labor’s birthday,” said Grandma 
Cottontail. 

“That’s right,” said Nixie. “To-day is 
Labor Day. 

Labor Day is the youngest of the Holiday 
family. 

He was born on the first Monday in 
September, and his birthday is always a 
holiday.” 

“But why is it a holiday?” asked 
Browny. “I should think that every one 
would work on Labor Day. 

Labor means work, doesn’t it?” 


20 



“Yes, labor means work,” said Nixie. 
“But Labor Day means Labor’s holiday. 

Labor Day is really a holiday for laborers 
and working-men, and they almost always 
have a parade.” 

Just then little Molly began to jump up 
and down. 

“Oh, goody, goody!” she cried. “Here 
comes the band!” 

Sure enough, the beating of the drum 
could be heard—“Rub-a-dub-dub! Rub-a- 
dub-dub!” 

Then every one got into line. 

You should have seen the parade! 

First came the band. 

21 



Then the men marched along like little 
tin soldiers on parade. 

Then the little boys came. I think they 
marched because they liked the music! 

The ladies and the little girls stood on 
the sidewalks and watched the men and 
the little boys go by. 

They watched the prettily trimmed 
wagons, too. These were a part of the 
parade. 

At last the end of the long line came, 
and the parade was over. 

“Where are they going now?” asked 
Browny. 

“I suppose they are going to have a 
picnic in the woods,” said Nixie. 

“I hope they will have lots of fun,” said 
Molly. 

“I hope so, too,” said Grandma Cottontail, 
“for to-morrow they must return to then- 
work.” 

“Let us hope they enjoy that, also,” said 
Grandpa Nixie. “It is good for men to 
work.” 


22 


“It is good for little boys and girls, too,” 
said Grandma Cottontail. 

“To those who work gladly, work is as play; 

To those who work sadly, long is the day. 

Always remember that, when you have a 
task to do.” 

“And always remember to work honestly 
and to help every one you can,” said Nixie. 


23 



There was a boy of whom I knew, 
And he had chances but a few, 

But he would try and try and try,— 
And he grew famous, by and by. 

24 














in 

A LITTLE BOY OF LONG AGO 

For many days the Cottontails traveled 
after leaving Labor Town. 

Then one morning Nixie said, “To-morrow 
we shall be at Columbus Town. 

Columbus Town is one of the most inter¬ 
esting places in Holiday-Land.” 

“Why is it called Columbus Town?” asked 
Browny. 

“It was named for Christopher Columbus, 
the man who discovered America,” answered 
Nixie. 

“Tell us all about him, Grandpa,” said 
Molly. “Tell us how he discovered America.” 

“But, my dear,” said Nixie, “I really 
know very little about it, myself.” 

(You see, even though he was a grand¬ 
father, Nixie wasn’t quite five years old! 
And what child of five years could tell the 
story?) 


25 


Now, as it happened, the next day Nixie 
met a sailor who knew the story well. And 
the sailor promised to tell it to the children. 

This sailor, I must tell you, was already 
seven years old. And, of course, those who 
are seven know ever so much more than 
those who are only five! 

This is the story as the sailor told it, and 
even the old folks listened to him: 

Once there was a little boy—a little boy 
of long ago. 

His name was Christopher Columbus. 

Wasn’t that a strange name for a little 
boy? 

His home was in Italy—sunny Italy, which 
is across the sea, far away from our own 
country. 

This little boy lived near the sea. 

He liked to sit and watch the boats, and 
he liked to listen to the stories that the 
sailors told. 

And often he would say to his father, 
“Father, I should like to be a sailor.” 


26 


Christopher made small boats and sailed 
them in the water. 

On Sundays and holidays his father and 
mother would go to the seashore with their 
boy. 

“Oh, father,” little 
Christopher would say, 

“when I am grown, I 
shall sail a large boat. 

Then I shall be a real 
sailor. I will sail far 
and away, over the sea.” 

“And will you not 
come back to us?” his 
mother would ask, sadly. 

“Oh, yes,” said Christopher, “I will come 
back as often as I go. 

And, oh, the beautiful things I will bring 
to you, each time I return!” 

Then Christopher’s father said, “For many 
years your mother and I have been combers 
of wool. 

I had hoped that you, too, would learn 
the trade, and stay at home, near us. 



27 




But if you wish to be a sailor, you must 
go to school. 

You must study geography and learn to 
draw maps. 

You must learn to know the stars, so that 
you may be guided by them on your way.” 

Bo Christopher went to school. He 
studied geography and learned to draw 
maps. 

He watched the stars and learned their 
names. 

He also made friends with a sea captain, 
who told him many stories of strange sights 
and foreign lands. 

How Christopher would listen! 

How eager he was to go with the captain! 

Then one day the sea captain said he had 
a place for another sailor. 

Christopher Columbus was only fourteen 
years old, but he said he would like the 
place. 

So his friend took him away in the ship. 

Columbus had to work hard, as most 
sailors do. 


28 


He studied hard, and soon learned the 
things about a ship and the sea that a good 
sailor must know. 

He made many voyages, and he became 
a captain when he was still young. 

He grew to be a wise and brave captain. 

He also made maps, which he sold to 
other captains. 

But the maps which Columbus made were 
very different from those we now have. 

At that time no one knew about our 
country. 

The people who lived in the lands far 
across the ocean did not know that there 
was such a country as America. 

Here the sailor stopped. 

“My, how strange!” said Browny. 

The sailor looked at his watch. He saw 
that it was long past the time when the 
little Cottontails should be in bed. 

So he said good-night and went away. 
But he promised to return the next evening, 
to finish his story. 


29 



I sometimes spend an hour or so 
Making my boats a-sailing go; 

I sail them east, I sail them west, 
Whichever way they sail the best. 

How can that be? Where is my sea? 
My tub’s my sea! You will agree 
That it is plenty large enough;— 
And, then, the sea is never rough! 


30 

















IV 

THE BRAVE CAPTAIN 

Browny and Molly could hardly wait 
until the next evening, to hear the rest of 
the story. 

Soon after supper was over, there was a 
knock at the door. 

“Oh, goody, goody!” cried Browny and 
Molly. “It’s the sailor-man!” 

And, sure enough, it was. 

Nixie said, “Come in. I am very glad 
to see you.” 

“The children have been talking about 
you all day,” said Grandma Cottontail. 

“Well, I am glad to hear that!” said the 
sailor. 

Then he picked Browny up in his arms 
and said, “I suppose you would like to hear 
the rest of the story?” 

And both the little rabbits cried, “Yes, 
sir!” 


31 


“Let’s see, where did we leave off?” 
asked the sailor. 

“I know!” said Molly. “We left off 
where Columbus was making maps.” 

“ An ri he didn’t have America on the map, 
because no one knew, then, that there was 
such a country,” Browny added. 

“That’s right! That’s right!” said the 
sailor. “Now I believe I can go on.” 

So he began: 

As long as America wasn’t on the map, 
and no one knew about it, the captains 
couldn’t sail their ships there. 

So the sailors went to a very rich country 
far to the east, called India. 

They brought back many things from 
India, but they had to travel a long distance. 

The voyage was a hard one. 

Columbus believed that he could find a 
shorter and better way. 

All the other sailors went to the east. 

Columbus wanted to sail to the west. 

He said, “I believe the earth is round. 


32 



If it is round, I think this way will be 
shorter.” 

He needed a ship, so that he could sail 
across the ocean to India. 

But he was too poor to buy a ship, and 
nobody was willing to help him get one. 

Most people made fun of his plans. Some 
thought he was crazy. 

A few believed as Columbus did, but even 
they would not help him. 

After many years, he found a friend who 
33 












helped him. This friend was Isabella, 
Queen of Spain. 

She gave him three ships. They were 
very small, but Columbus was glad to have 
them. 

But now he had a hard time finding sailors 
to go with him. 

No one, then, had sailed around the globe. 

No one, then, had even dared to sail very 
far out on the ocean to the west of Europe. 

The people called this ocean the “Sea of 
Darkness.” Now we call it the Atlantic 
Ocean. 

No one knew, then, what lands lay west 
of the Atlantic Ocean. 

At last Columbus sailed away from Spain 
in one of his ships. The other two followed. 

They sailed to the west, on the “Sea of 
Darkness.” 

People said they would never come back. 

But Columbus felt sure they were going 
to find a shorter way to India. 

They sailed for many long days, and all 
that they could see was water. 


34 


At last the men began to think that they 
were sailing on an ocean which had no end. 

They tried to make Columbus turn back, 
but he said he would not give up. 

He was a brave captain, and he tried to 
make his sailors brave. 

He said, “I’ll give a velvet coat to the 
man who sees land first.” 

The very next day 
a flock of land birds 
flew by the ships. 

The branch of a 
tree came floating 
by, also. It was 
covered with red 
berries. 

The sailors now felt sure that land was 
near. They were no longer afraid. 

That night Columbus saw a moving light 
in the distance. 

Soon after that a gun was fired from one 
of the ships. This was a sign that land was 
in sight. 

The next morning Columbus saw the 



35 



shores of a beautiful island. There were 
many trees growing on it. 

How glad he was! 

How glad the sailors were! 

When they went on shore they kissed the 
ground, they were so happy to feel it under 
their feet once more. 

It was the twelfth day of October. 

Columbus believed that he had reached 
India. 

So he called the red men whom he found 
here “Indians.” 

But we know the land was not India. 

It was a new world that Columbus had 
found. He had discovered America. 

As the sailor finished his story, Molly said, 
“Oh, I’m so glad!” 

“Glad about what, Bun?” asked Grandma. 
(“Bun” was her pet name for Molly.) 

“Oh, I’m so glad about everything!” said 
Molly. 

“I’m glad that Queen Isabella gave 
Columbus those ships. 

36 


I’m glad that Columbus made the sailors 
keep on until he found America. 

I’m glad that we are all here. And I’m 
glad that you’re my grandma, and that 
Nixie is my grandpa, and that. Browny is 
my brother!” 

Of course every one laughed at that. 

Then they all thanked the sailor for the 
good story he had told them. 

It was late, so the sailor said good-night 
and went home, and the Cottontails went 
to bed. 


37 



One day we took some pumpkins, 
And cut the insides out; 

And then we cut out noses, 

And eyes and teeth and mouth. 

We boys each got a candle, 

And fastened it inside: 

That made a Jack-o’-lantern,— 
And lots of fun, beside. 


38 







Y 

HALLOWEEN 

The next place the Cottontails visited 
was Halloween. 

It was at the end of October, the very 
last day of the month. 

Nixie and Browny were sitting at the 
window of their hotel, when—what do you 
suppose happened? 

A long line of boys came marching past. 
Every one of them carried a large pumpkin. 

“Look, Grandpa! look!” cried Browny. 
“What a lot of pumpkins!” 

“Well, well!” said Nixie. “I guess the 
boys are going to have a big time this 
evening.” 

“What are they going to do with all the 
pumpkins?” asked Browny. 

“Are they going to make pumpkin pies? 
Oh, what a lot of pies there will be!” 

“Pies!” cried Nixie. “Not one of the 


39 


pumpkins will ever see the inside of an 
oven. 

Do you see that boy across the way? 
He has a pumpkin. He has a knife, too. 

Do you see what he is doing with his 
pumpkin?” 

“Why, yes,” said Browny. “He is cutting 
it up.” 

“No,” said Nixie, “he isn’t cutting it up. 
He has cut out the inside part. 

See the two big round holes he has cut 
near the top. Those are meant to look like 
eyes. 

See the queer little nose he has made on 
the face of the pumpkin, and the large, 
funny mouth he is cutting. 

When he finishes the cutting, he will 
put a little candle inside. 

Then, after dark, he will light the candle. 

He will call his pumpkin a Jack-o’- 
lantern. 

The boys will have a merry time, for 
to-night is Halloween.” 

And a merry time the boys did have. 


40 



How many funny pumpkin heads the 
Cottontails saw that evening! 

Each pumpkin had a lighted candle inside. 

The Jack-o’-lanterns sat on the fences. 
They looked in at the windows. They 
marched along the streets. They sat on the 
steps. 

Grandma said, “The fairies must have 
been working hard.” 

“What are fairies'?” asked Molly. 

“Fairies,” said Grandma, “are good- 
natured spirits that help people. Or, at 
least, that is what they used to be. 


41 


















I am told that there are good and bad 
fairies now, just as there are good and bad 
people. 

The good fairies are sometimes called 
brownies. 

The bad fairies are called witches. 

Years ago, many people thought that on 
Halloween witches and brownies came out 
from their hiding-places. 

They would go about playing jokes on 
people. Sometimes they would do kind 
deeds. 

They would pull up roots of cabbages and 
turnips and other plants. These they would 
hang over people’s doors. 

It was said that the cabbage or other root 
brought good luck to the first one who came 
in through that door.” 

“Can we see any of the fairies?” asked 
Browny. 

“Well, sometimes,” said Grandma. 

“The good fairies are those that help 
people. 

Sometimes they leave baskets of food for 


42 



poor people, and sometimes they leave 
clothes to wear. 

Sometimes they help with the work. 

But when your door-bell rings, and you 
hear some one running away, you can tell 
that a bad fairy has been there. 

The last fairy I saw doing this looked 
like a little boy. 

Sometimes such fairies steal gates and 
make bonfires. 

These, you may be sure, are very, very 
bad fairies. 

Or perhaps they are not fairies at all, 
but wicked goblins.” 



An d now comes Indian Summer, 

The sweetest time of year, 

With its warm and pleasant weather, 
And hazy atmosphere. 

“And what is Indian Summer?” 

Ah, ha! so don’t you know? 

It’s the time when Indian spirits 
Go marching to and fro. 


44 










VI 

INDIAN DAYS 

The next day was the first day of 
November. 

That day the Cottontails went to pay a 
visit to a farmer. Nixie had known him 
when they both were little boys. 

The farmer’s house stood on a hill. There 
were no other houses near it. 

But there were trees around it, and fields 
lay all about it. 

From the house the Cottontails could see 
the gardener out in the yard. He was 
raking and burning the fallen leaves. 

Browny said, “Grandpa, may we go out 
to watch the gardener?” 

“Yes, run along,” said Nixie. 

So while Nixie and Grandma Cottontail 
talked with the farmer and his wife, Browny 
and Molly ran out to watch the gardener 
at his work. 


45 


The sun was setting. The cows were 
coming home from pasture. The old 
gardener was singing at his work. 

Browny and Molly stood near him. 

“Why are you doing that?” Browny asked. 

“To clear the ground before the cold 
weather sets in,” said the gardener. “It is 
now Indian Summer.” 

“What is Indian Summer?” asked Molly. 

“Indian Summer,” said the gardener, “is 
the spell of nice warm weather that we 
have late in the autumn. 

Don’t you feel the pleasant dry air? And 
don’t you know what fine moonlight nights 
we are having?” 

“Are we?” said Browny. “But why is it 
called Indian Summer?” 

“I suppose it is because then all the 
Indians come back,” said the gardener. 

“You know, years and years ago—long 
before my great-great-great-grandfather 
was born—there used to be many Indians 
around here.” 

“How many?” asked Molly. 


46 



“Thousands and thousands,” said the 
gardener. 

“Real Indians'?” asked Browny. 

“Yes, indeed,” said the gardener. “Real, 
living Indians. There were no painted 
wooden ones in those days. 

There were Indians all around here. 

Do you see the corn standing in shocks 
out in the field? 

Well, some of the Indians’ houses used 
to look very much like those shocks. Only 
they were built in the woods, and not out 
in the fields. They were called wigwams.” 


47 







Just then the gardener threw more leaves 
on the fire, and he and the two little bunnies 
sat down to watch them burn. 

Browny and Molly sat very close to the 
gardener. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “There are 
no Indians aroimd here now. 

They have been gone for many, many 
years.” 

“Where did they all go?” asked Molly. 

“Many of them died and the rest were 
chased away by the white men,” said the 
gardener. 

“And are there none left—anywhere?” 
asked Browny. 

“Oh, yes, there are still some,” said the 
gardener, “but they are many, many miles 
from here.” 

“And can they ever come back?” asked 
Molly. 

“Yes,” said the gardener, “every year, 
about this time, they all come back. At 
least, their spirits do. 

Do you notice how hazy the air looks? 


48 



Well, it always looks that way before the 
Indian spirits come. 

Ah, they are here now! 

It isn’t too dark to see them. 

Look straight ahead of you. Look there, 
in the fields. 

Do you see the Indians marching and 
dancing? 

They are all around us now. 

Do you see their wigwams? 

They look like corn-shocks, to be sure, 
but they are Indian houses, or wigwams. 

49 













Do you notice that smoky smell in the 
air? 

Oh, no, that isn’t from the burning 
leaves. It isn’t that, at all. 

That comes from the Indian camp fires 
... and the Indian pipes. 

But soon all the Indians will go marching 
away, back to their happy hunting ground.” 

“What is the happy hunting ground?” 
asked Browny. 

“It is the Indian’s idea of heaven,” said 
the gardener. 

“The Indian likes to hunt buffalo and kill 
bears. So he believes that after he dies he 
will go to a beautiful country, where he 
may take his dog and go hunting. 

He calls this country his happy hunting- 
ground. 

But next year you will see the Indians 
all here again. 

Every one of them will be here. There 
will be as many here as there were when 
the Pilgrims first came.” 

“Who were the Pilgrims?” asked Molly. 


50 


“Why, don’t you know?” said the gar¬ 
dener. “They were some of the first white 
people who came to live in America.” 

“Will you tell us about them?” asked 
Browny. 

“You had better ask your grandpa to tell 
you about the Pilgrims,” said the gardener. 

“It is getting late now. Unless we hurry 
w T e shall miss our supper.” 



51 



Should you have liked to be 
A Pilgrim girl or boy, 

And come across the sea, 

And seldom have a toy? 

Should you have liked to meet 
A lot of red men bold, 

And not have much to eat, 
And suffer with the cold? 


52 










YII 

NIXIE’S STORY OF THE PILGRIMS 

The Cottontails visited for a number of 
days with the good farmer and his wife. 

The little bunnies made a great friend of 
the gardener. 

You may be sure they were sorry to leave 
when the time came to say good-by. 

But the Cottontails had many other places 
to visit and they could stay no longer on 
this pleasant farm. 

“Where are we going now?” asked 
Browny. 

“We are on our way to Thanksgiving,” 
said Nixie. 

“Where is Thanksgiving?” asked Molly. 

“Why, it’s right down near the end of the 
November map,” said Grandma Cottontail. 

Then she pulled the map out of her 
traveling bag and showed the two bunnies 
just where Thanksgiving was. 

53 


Perhaps you have never heard of a 
November map. 

Well, the Cottontails called the calendar 
their map. 

Isn’t that strange? 

“Thanksgiving is the last Thursday in 
the month,” said Nixie. 

Then Molly asked, “Will you tell us the 
story of the Pilgrims, Grandpa?” 

“Well,” said Nixie, “the story of the 
Pilgrims is really the story of Thanksgiving. 
I will tell you about both at one time.” 

And here is the story as Nixie told it to 
the two little bunnies: 

Long, long, long ago there were no white 
men in America. 

There were only Indians, or red men. 

After a while the white men began to 
come here from Europe. 

Some of the first to come were the 
Pilgrims. 

These people called themselves Pilgrims 
because they went from place to place. Do 


54 


you wonder why they did that? I will tell 
you. 

The Pilgrims first lived in England. 

But they were not happy there, because 
the king said they must belong to his 
church. 

He said, “If you will not obey, I will put 
you in prison.” 

They wished to be free, so they said, “Let 
us go away from this country. Let us go 
to Holland.” 

So they left their old homes and sailed 
away to Holland. 

The Dutch people, who lived in Holland, 
were very kind to the Pilgrims. 

Then the Pilgrim children began to grow 
up. In a few years they were not at all 
like other English children. 

They even spoke Dutch, like the little 
hoys and girls of Holland. 

This troubled the Pilgrim fathers and 
mothers. 

They said, “We cannot stay here. We 
must find a home that will be more our own. 


55 



Look at our children, playing with the 
Dutch children there. 


See how different they are from children 
in England. They even speak a different 
language. 

It should not be so.” 

At last the Pilgrims made up their minds 
to come to America. 

They sailed away from Holland, in a boat 
called the Mayflower. 

There were about one hundred people on 
the boat. There were fathers and mothers, 
brothers and sisters, and little children. 

They were on the ocean for two long 
months. 


56 






A baby boy was born in the ship. They 
called hi m “Ocean- 
us,” because he was 
born on the ocean. 

Here is a picture 
of his cradle. 

The Pilgrims 
reached America in 
the winter. The weather was very cold. 

The ground was hard and bare. All that 
the Pilgrims could see were rocks and sand. 

On one of these rocks the Pilgrims landed. 
It is now called Plymouth Rock. 

Here Nixie stopped. 

Then Grandma said, “Oh, that isn’t the 
way I’ve heard the story of Thanksgiving! 

You haven’t told about the turkeys and 
about the Indians that came to the feast!” 

“I am afraid you have never known the 
whole story,” said Nixie. 

“The Indians, and the turkeys and other 
good things, came last of all. We shall soon 
get to them.” 



57 






On Thanksgiving Day we should give thanks, 
As did the Pilgrims brave of yore. 

Thanks for meat, and drink, and things we 
have, 

And for things we hope may lie in store. 


08 

















VIII 

THE FIRST THANKSGIVING DAY 

The next morning it snowed and snowed. 
Then weren’t the Cottontails happy! 

If there is anything that delights the 
heart of a bunny, it is snow. 

“Now we must be near Thanksgiving,” 
said Molly. 

“Please tell us the rest of the Pilgrims’ 
story, Grandpa,” said Browny. 

So Grandma and Molly and Browny all 
sat down to hear the rest of Nixie’s story. 

This is it, just as he told it: 

When the Pilgrims left their ship and 
went on shore, they looked about to see if 
they couldn’t find the houses of any white 
people. 

But they saw only some Indians and 
Indian wigwams. They were afraid of the 
Indians. 


59 


The Indians were afraid of the white men, 
too. When they saw any white men they 
would run away. 

But after a while some of them became 
the friends of the white men. 

That first winter the Pilgrims had a hard 
time. Many of them died, because they 
were so cold and hungry. 

You see, they couldn’t buy clothes to wear 
and things to eat, because there were no 
stores. 

There were no schools, nor churches, nor 
big buildings of any kind. There weren’t 
even any streets. 

At first the Pilgrims built one big log 
house for all of them to live in. But later 
they built a house for each family. 

At last the winter was over. 

The days grew warmer and the ground 
softer. 

Then the Indians showed the white men 
how to plant corn in the soft ground. The 
Pilgrims had never seen corn before, for 
corn did not grow in England and Holland. 


60 


Every one worked hard during the 
summer. 

The summer sunshine ripened the corn, 
and in the autumn the Pilgrims had a good 
harvest. 

In the forests were wild ducks and geese 
and big wild turkeys. 

In the woods grapes and plums and 
berries grew. 

Besides, the Pilgrims had fish and clams 
from the sea. 

All this made them very happy. 

“We shall have enough to eat, this 
winter,’’ said the Pilgrims. 



61 









“We should thank God for his goodness 
to us. Let us have a day of thanksgiving.” 

So they had the first Thanksgiving. 

They gave a great feast and invited the 
Indians to it. Almost a hundred red men 
came. 

In the morning all the Pilgrims went to 
church. They sang hymns and thanked 
God for his goodness. 

After church came the feast. 

My, what a lot of good things the Pilgrim 
mothers had cooked! 

The Indians had brought several fine 
deer, which they had killed in the woods. 

Then the Pilgrims had turkey for dinner, 
just as we do now. Only their turkeys were 
wild ones. 

So the Indians, the Pilgrim fathers, the 
Pilgrim mothers, and the little children all 
sat down together. 

After dinner was over they played games 
and ran races. 

The Indians had such a good time that 
they stayed three days. 


62 



So, you see, the first Thanksgiving was 
really three days long. 

Ever since that time Thanksgiving has 
been kept in our country: 

Every year our fathers and mothers and 
grandfathers and grandmothers have found 
something to be thankful for. 

And every year the little children have 
wished that Thanksgiving might be three 
days long, as the first Thanksgiving was. 

“That would be fine!” said Browny. “Oh, 
what fun we could have in a Thanksgiving 
three whole days long!” 

But Molly said, “There would be too many 
dishes to wash.” 


63 



Where the sleighbells tinkle sweetest, 
Where the reindeer are the fleetest, 
Where the falling snowflakes bless us, 
And the winds so cold caress us, 
There let us wander hand in hand, 
For that is Santa Claus’ land. 


G4 























IX 


IN SANTA-CLAUS LAND 

The Cottontails had a big dinner on 
Thanksgiving Day. And Browny and Molly 
had much fun, besides. 

But both bunnies ate more than was really 
good for them. 

They went to bed early, as Nixie said 
that the next day they would start for the 
Christmas holiday. This holiday was only 
a month away. 

That night Browny had a dream. 

And this is what he dreamed: 

He was away up in the North Land. It 
was, oh, so much farther north than the 
Eskimo country! 

All the ice was rock candy. All the snow 
was sugar. 

The houses were made of chocolate, and 
the animals were made of gingerbread. 


65 


Not all of the animals, but all except eight 
of them. 

These eight were reindeer, and they 
belonged to a very, very old man. His name 
was Santa Claus. 

The whole country was owned by this old 
man. So it was called Santa-Claus Land. 

Mr. Santa Claus himself lived in a choco¬ 
late palace in Santa-Claus Land. 

Right in front of his palace stood two 
great Christmas trees. 

Back of it were growing a million or more 
little evergreen trees. 

These were going to be Christmas trees 
for a million or more families. 

And all around the palace grew holly 
bushes, covered with shiny red berries. 

But all this was nothing compared with 
what was inside the palace! 

Browny climbed the broad flight of choco¬ 
late stairs and went up to the great front 
door. 

A brownie opened the door. He was 
dressed in a red suit, with gold buttons on 


66 



his coat, and with gold braid down the sides 
of his trousers. 

“What can I do for you, Your Royal 
Highness?” he asked. 

For a moment Browny did not know what 
to say. How t should you like to be called 
“Your Royal Highness”? 

At last Brownjr said, “I have come to see 
Mr. Santa Claus. Is he at home?” 

“This way, please,” said the polite little 
brownie. “Mr. Santa Claus will be glad to 
see you.” 

As Browny passed through the palace he 
noticed everywhere piles and piles and piles 

of things for Christmas. 

67 


















There were several piles of popcorn balls. 
So big were the piles, that they seemed to 
Browny almost as high as a mountain. 

There were other piles of candy and nuts 
and fruits and toys and dolls. These piles, 
too, were ever so big! 

And there were hundreds of brownies 
working away and making thousands of 
other toys. 

Browny passed many, many piles of toys. 

Then he asked, “What are you going to 
do with all these?” 

“The earth is large,” said the brownie, 
“and every one in Santa-Claus Land must 
work until there is at least one toy for 
every boy and every girl.” 

“And none for the little cottontails?” 
Browny asked. 

“Oh, yes,” said the red brownie. “There 
must be one for every little cottontail boy 
and girl, too.” 

Just then they came to a door marked, 
“Santa Claus. Only children may enter.” 

The red brownie swung the door open, 
68 


and Browny saw a white-haired man sitting 
in a large chair at a large desk. 

When the old man saw Browny, he turned 
about in his chair. 

“I am glad to see you,” he said. “Won’t 
you have a chair?” 

Then they talked. When Browny saw 
how old Santa Claus was, he said, “I suppose 
that this year you will send one of your 
helpers to deliver the Christmas presents. 

It would make you too tired to do it 
yourself, I am sure.” 

“No, no!” said Santa Claus. “My helpers 
attend to the workshop. But I must deliver 
the presents myself. 

What would the children think if Santa 
Claus did not come?” 

Then his face grew bright and rosy, and, 
oh, how young he seemed! 

“I am no older to-day,” said Santa Claus, 
“than I was when your mother was a little 
girl. Indeed, I am as young now as when 
your great-great-grandmother was a baby!” 

Then to show Browny how young he 


69 



really was, Santa Claus went out into the 
yard and caught each of his eight reindeer 
by the horns. 

He had the brownies hitch them to his 
sleigh and he took the little rabbit for a 
long ride. 

Browny spent the night with Santa Claus 
and in the morning the brownies filled 
the sleigh and Santa’s bag with toys and 
candy. 

Now they were ready to start on their 
long journey to the earth. 

How swiftly the reindeer galloped! And 
how happy Santa Claus was, now that he 
was off to take his toys and his good cheer 
everywhere he went! 

Soon he would be scrambling down the 


70 






chimneys, to fill the stockings that hung in 
rows by the fireplaces. 

They were already on the top of a large, 
high building that must have been the home 
of many families. 

The reindeer were going very fast. The 
two that led the rest seemed not to notice 
how near the edge of the roof they were. 

Then over they went, with sleigh, Santa 
Claus, toys, and all! 

They were going down—down—down! 

Suddenly, there was a heavy thump on 
the floor. Browny woke up. 

He had fallen out of bed! This was only 
a dream, and he had had it because he had 
eaten too much on Thanksgiving Day. 



71 







“Happy is the morn of Christmas,” 
Sang the children gay, 

“Happy is the morn!” sang birdie 
In his roundelay. 

“Why should you be happy?” asked 
The children of the bird. 

“Happy I!” said he, “because 
I heard a happy word!” 


72 







X 

THE REAL CHRISTMAS STORY 

The next morning Browny told Nixie 
and Grandma Cottontail and Molly of the 
dream he had had. 

And, oh, how they all laughed! 

Then Molly asked, “Do you know any 
Christmas stories, Grandma?” 

“Only one,” said Grandma. 

“A Santa Claus story?” asked Browny. 

“No,” said Grandma. “The story I know 
is the real Christmas story.” 

“Oh, how I should like to hear the real 
Christmas story!” cried Molly. “Tell it to 
us, Grandma!” 

“Not until the night before Christmas,” 
said Grandma. 

The little Cottontails could hardly wait. 
Each day they would ask, “Will to-night 
be the night before Christmas?” 

At last the night for the story came. 


73 


First Grandma made the two little bun¬ 
nies promise to go to bed as soon as the 
story was told. Then she began her real 
Christmas story. 

Here it is: 

Many, many years ago, a carpenter 
named Joseph lived in a little town called 
Nazareth. Nazareth was in a small country 
called Palestine, which is across the sea 
and far away. 

Joseph was born in Bethlehem, another 
little town of Palestine. 

This country of Palestine was a small 
part of a very great land over which one 
man ruled. 

This ruler wished to find out how many 
people lived in his land. 

And how do you suppose he did it? 

He made all the people go to the towns 
in which they had been born, to be counted. 

As Joseph had been born in Bethlehem, 
he and Mary, his wife, had to go there to 
be counted. 


74 


Nazareth was not so very far from 
Bethlehem. It was only about eighty miles 
away. 

But there were no fast trains or electric 
cars in those days. 

Some people traveled on horses, some on 
camels, and others on donkeys. 

Joseph was too poor to own horses or 
camels. And he had but one donkey. 

How were he and Mary to get to Beth¬ 
lehem 1 ? 

He made up a small bundle of food and 
clothing, and got his donkey ready. 

Then early one morn¬ 
ing he helped Mary 
mount on the donkey’s 
back. 

She should ride, and 
he would walk beside 
her. 

So they started for 
Bethlehem, and traveled 
for four days. They were very 
at last they reached the town. 



75 


They found the inn, or hotel, full of 
people. 

The inn-keeper said there was no room 
for them, not even for Mary. 

“You may go into the stable and sleep 
there, in the hay,” the inn-keeper said. 

Joseph and Mary were thankful for even 
so much. 

And there, in the stable, with the cattle 
all around, a little baby was born that 
night. 

He was a very wonderful child. 

Mary named him Jesus, but we often call 
him the Christ Child. 

Then they wrapped little Christ Jesus 
up and laid him—where do you suppose? 

There was no cradle, nor bed, nor crib 
in which to put him. 

So they laid this wonderful baby in a 
manger—a box from which the cattle ate 
their food. 

All the stars shone very brightly that 
night. 

The angels sang in heaven. They knew 


76 


about the wonderful child, and they knew 
that he had come to help the people on 
earth to be good. 

By and by many people came to see 
little Jesus, for they had heard that a 
wonderful child was to be born in Beth¬ 
lehem. 

Even the shepherds left their sheep, and 
went to see the child. 

The Christ Child grew strong and 
beautiful. 

He loved everybody, and most of all 
little children. And he taught the whole 
world how people should love one another. 

He was the best Christmas present this 
world has ever had. 

This is the reason we love Christmas 
Day so much. And this is why we try to 
make other people happy. 

When Grandma Cottontail finished her 
story, the two little Cottontails went to 
bed, just as they had promised. 

They had never heard the real Christmas 


77 


story. And they hadn’t known before what 
Christmas really meant. 

They made up their minds always to be 
kind to everybody. They meant to help 
other people and love other people more. 

The little bunnies thought so many things 
that they forgot about Christmas presents. 
They forgot to hang up their stockings! 

So when Santa Claus came in the night 
and found no stockings, what do you 
suppose he did? 

He laid the presents right on their beds! 
Wasn’t that kind of him? 

And how surprised the little Cottontails 


were when they 
awoke the next 
morning! 



They dressed 
quickly and ran 
downstairs. 


“Merry Christ¬ 
mas, Grandma!” 


they shouted, “Merry Christmas, Grandpa! 
Just see what we found on our beds!” 


78 


Then Browny climbed on Nixie’s knee 
and hugged him, and Molly climbed into 
Grandma’s lap and hugged her. 

They hugged so tight that Grandma and 
Grandpa could hardly say, “Merry Christ¬ 
mas!” to the little bunnies. 

Molly said, “I love you, Grandma. I 
love Grandpa Nixie, too. And I love my 
mamma and my papa, and Browny, and 
everybody else.” 

“And so you should,” said Grandma. 



79 



Happy New Year! 

A Happy New Year to all! 
People tall, children small, 
And animals in the wood,— 
A wish for everything good 
For the New Year! 


80 












XI 

A HAPPY NEW YEAR 

The two little Cottontails put on their 
cloaks and their mittens. 

“We are going to the woods,” they said, 
“to wish all the animals a Happy New 
Year.” 

Grandma and Grandpa Cottontail smiled 
at that. 

Grandma said, “Don’t be long, buns. 
And don’t you get lost!” 

Jack Frost had put snow on the ground 
and ice on the pond. 

He had painted pictures on the windows 
of all the houses. As they went along the 
road Browny and Molly could see the 
pictures. 

The snow on the road was hard under 
their feet, but that in the woods was soft 
and nice. 

In the snow the Cottontails could see the 
81 


m 


#/«?' 




jK’-W*'* 

* M A^ * '$ / /'i, 

#/ 


footprints of animals, and many tiny bird 
tracks. 

They followed the tracks. These led to 
an open space among the trees. 

Over this open space the tree-tops came 
together like a canopy. 

Before Browny and Molly reached the 
open space they heard voices. It sounded 
as though a great many animals were 
talking. 

All of them were talking at once. And 
each animal was talking in his own way. 

The noise was like that at a circus. 

As Browny and Molly came to the open 
space they stopped. Sure enough, a great 
many animals and birds were gathered 
there. 


82 


The little rabbits called, “Happy New 
Year! A happy New Year to all!” 

The other animals turned and looked at 
them. 

“What do you mean by that?” asked 
the fox. 

You would think that any one as sly 
as a fox would know. But he didn’t! 

And none of the other animals had ever 
before heard of New Year’s Day. 

“Why — why — why,” Browny said, 
“didn’t you hear the bells ringing last 
night for a glad New Year?” 

“I heard the bells ringing,” said the fox. 
“But what has that to do with the new 
year?” 

Browny and Molly really did not know. 

They were wondering what to say when 
they heard a sort of “swish!” and a white¬ 
winged fairy stood before them. 

The Fairy said, “The bells were ringing 
to say that to-day would be the birthday 
of a new year. 

It brings us a new winter, spring, 


83 


summer, and autumn. Each season in 
turn seems lovelier than the rest. 

The new year brings us twelve new 
months. January is the first month. 

New Year’s Day is the first day. It is 
also a holiday. 

It is followed by a whole year of days. 

Each day brings something new. And 
each day brings a birthday to some one. 

January is a happy little fellow. His 
eyes sparkle like diamonds.” 

“They do,” said the snow-bird. And 
snow-birds ought to know! 

Then the Fairy said, “January is a good 
leader, too. On the first day of the year— 
New Year’s Day—he says to the months and 
days that follow him: 

‘I will show you the way to Better Land, 
where every one tries hard to do better 
than he has ever done before. 

There, work is like play, because it is so 
willingly and cheerfully done. 

There, every little boy and girl does his 
or her best to make other people happy. 


84 


Smiles fly about like little birds. No 
cross words are spoken, and no naughty 
things are done.’ 

January says to all children, ‘If you would 
go to Better Land, you must begin to-day 
to be good. 

You must speak kindly and behave well 
on New Year’s Day, because those who 
are good on New Year’s Day find it easier 
to be good the whole year through.’ ” 

Then, before any one knew it, the Fairy 
was gone. 

Browny and Molly faced the birds and 
animals. 

“Now do you know what New Year’s 
Day means'?” they asked. 

“And are you glad that it is here? If 
you are, say ‘Happy New Year!’ ” 

Then all the animals shouted, “Happy 
New Year! Happy New Year!” 

Such a noise as they made was never 
before heard in the woods. And I believe 
they meant every word of what they said, 
which is more than people always do. 


85 



If you had a wish, 

And you had but one, 

For what would you wish?— 
For a doll or a gun? 

If I had a wish, 

Or had I three, 

Like Abraham Lincoln 
I’d wish to be! 


86 


XII 

A SLEIGH-RIDE 

Late one evening the Cottontails were 
sitting before the fire, when some one 
knocked at the door. 

It was their friend January. 

He had come to bid them good-by. He 
was going away, not to be back for a whole 
year. 

But he had brought with him a little 
fellow named February. February said he 
would show the Cottontails through his 
part of Holiday-Land. 

When the two months had left, Molly 
said, “Isn’t February little!” 

“He is little,” said Nixie. “He is the 
shortest of the months, but one of the 
brightest of all the year.” 

And it wasn’t long before the Cottontails 
found how true this was. 

It was the twelfth of the month when 
87 


February called for the Cottontails in his 
sleigh. He was going to give them a ride. 

“Where are we going?” Browny asked. 

“Whose birthday is it?” asked February. 

But, I am ashamed to tell you, neither 
of the little Cottontails knew. 

Grandma had to tell them that it was 
Abraham Lincoln’s birthday. 

“And Abraham Lincoln was a very great 
man,” she said. 

“We are going to visit some places that 
knew Lincoln,” said February. 

The merry bells tinkled, and the horses 
almost flew across the snow. Faster and 
faster and faster they went! 

They stopped at 
a little log cabin, 
on a small, lonely 
farm in Kentucky. 

February said, 
“This is where a 
little poor boy named Abraham Lincoln was 
born.” 

“What a very poor house!” said Nixie. 



88 


“Yes,” said February, “there was no glass 
in the one little square window and no door 
in the doorway. 

Over both of these openings skins were 
sometimes hung to keep out the cold and 
the wind. 

There was no floor except the hard earth.” 

“And did he always live here?” said 
Browny. 

“No,” said February, “when Abraham 
was seven years old his family moved from 
Kentucky to Indiana.” 

Then February cracked his whip, and off 
they started for Lincoln’s second home. 

“We travel so fast,” said February, “that 
we shall be there in a few minutes. 

But it took the Lincoln family almost a 
week to go from the old home to the new. 

And poor little Abraham had to walk 
most of the way.” 

As they reached the spot, February said, 
“Here, in the woods, far away from any 
one, Abraham’s father built his second log 
cabin. 


89 


It was a sort of shed and had only three 
sides. 

The fourth side was open, and there was 
nothing to keep out the cold and the rain 
and the snow. 

In this hut the family lived through the 
winter. 

The father was busy cutting down trees 
and getting logs ready for a better cabin. 


Before the next 
inter the new 
ome was ready, 
his cabin had four 
des to it. You see, 
was much like 
the little old cabin 



in which Abraham Lincoln was born. 

It had a wide fireplace at one end, with 
the chimney built against the outside of 
the house. 

The furniture in it was home-made. 

Abe’s father split a large log and made 
a table by driving into it four stout sticks 
for legs. 


90 



Then he made some three-legged stools. 
These were used in the place of chairs. 

Little Abe helped as much as he could. 
He was growing tall and 
strong and he could use an 
axe almost as well as a 
man. 

There was a loft in the 
cabin and Abraham slept in 
one corner of this loft. And 
do you know what kind of 
bed he had?’ 

Even GtrandpaNixie 
didn’t know and couldn’t 

“He had a big bag of dry leaves for a 
bed,” said February. 

“How would you like to have such a 
bed, little Cottontails?’ 

Browny said, “I don’t believe I should 
like it.” 

“I am quite sure I shouldn’t like it, at 
all!” said Molly. 



guess. 


91 







I open the book and read a page 
Of Abraham Lincoln’s day, 

And then to myself I say: 

Oh-ho, heigh-ho, but the world’s a stage! 

In a small log cabin, first, we see 
A boy who lovingly looks 
On paper, pen, and books, 

Although not one of these has he. 

The stately White House, next, we find 
The home of our cabin lad, 

Who improved each chance he had,— 

Now our President good and kind. 


92 






















XIII 

HOW ABRAHAM GREW UP 

February turned his horses about, and 
soon they were galloping away. 

“Where are we going now?” asked Molly. 

“If you cannot guess, I will not tell you,” 
said February. 

Where do you suppose they were going? 

It seemed by the twinkle in Grandma’s 
and Grandpa’s eyes that they must know. 

If they did know, they didn’t say a word. 

“As we have a long way to go,” said 
February, “I will tell you how Abraham 
loved to study. 

There were very few schools in the part 
of the country in which Abe lived. 

The one nearest his home was almost five 
miles away. It was kept open for only a 
few months of each year. 

Abe went to this school as often as he 
could. But he had to help his father on 


93 


the farm, so he could not go to school very 
often. 

Here he learned to read and write a 
little, but he wished to know more. 

His mother helped him with his studies 
when she could. 

When the rest of the family had gone 
to bed, Abe would sit up and study by the 
light of the log fire. 

He did not have many books, so he bor¬ 
rowed all the books he could find in the 
neighborhood. 

He would read each one over and over 
again. 

Once a neighbor lent him a story of the 
life of George Washington. 

He read it day and night, and carried it 
to bed with him. 

At night he would put the book between 
the logs of the cabin wall, beside his bed. 
He wanted it where he could get it the 
first thing in the morning. 

One night it rained hard and the book 
got wet. 


94 



It was spoiled! What was Abe to do? 
He was frightened. 

He took it back to the neighbor. 

‘I am very sorry about your book,’ he 
said, ‘but it got wet. What can I do to 
pay for it?’ 

The neighbor said, ‘If you will come and 
work for me in the cornfield for three days, 
you may keep the book.’ 

It made Abe so happy to have a book of 
his own that he did not mind the hard 
work. 

He liked to do sums in arithmetic, and 
to write, almost as much as he liked to 
read. 


95 







His father was too poor to buy paper and 
pens, so Abe had to do without them. 

He did his sums on the back of a wooden 
fire-shovel. For a pencil he used a burnt 
stick or a piece of charcoal. 

Whenever he read anything he liked very 
much he would copy it into a blank-book. 

Sometimes he wrote little pieces of his 
own about things which interested him. 

This is one of them: 

Good boys who to their books apply, 

Will all be great men by and by. 

You can see how true Abe’s copy was, 
for when he grew up he became a great 
lawyer. People went to him when they 
were in trouble. 

He was a good man, and every one who 
knew him well loved and trusted him. 

He was so honest and fair in all his work 
that he was called Honest Abe. 

The people of our country thought so 
much of him that they made him President 
of the United States. 


96 



And the little boy who was born in a log 
cabin went to live in the White House. 

‘The White House,’ you know, is what 
we call the beautiful, stately old mansion 
in which our President always lives.” 

As February said this, he stopped his 
horses. 

“And here it is,” he added. 

To be sure, here they were, before the 
White House. How surprised the Cotton¬ 
tails were! 

Again the merry bells tinkled, and again 
the proud horses sprang into the air. 

Before the clock struck ten the Cotton¬ 
tails were safe in their beds. 


97 












Will you be my Valentine? 
Smile on me, and, rain or shine, 
Play with me, and I shall be 
Happy quite, and full of glee! 


98 















XIV 

SAINT VALENTINE’S DAY 

The next morning Grandpa Nixie said 
to Browny and Molly: 

“To-morrow will be Saint Valentine’s 
Day. You must send valentines to your 
mamma and papa.” 

“Where shall we get them?” asked Molly. 

“And what are they?” asked Browny. 

“Why, every baby knows what a valentine 
is!” said Nixie. 

“But these two little bunnies don’t,” said 
Grandma. “You know last Saint Valen¬ 
tine’s Day came before they were born.” 

“That’s so, isn’t it!” cried Nixie. “Well, 
I had forgotten. And I suppose they have 
never heard the Valentine story.” 

“Of course not,” said Grandma. 

Then Nixie took a bunny on each knee 
and told them how there happened to be a 
Saint Valentine’s Day. 


99 


This is the story just as Nixie told it: 

A long time ago there lived a priest 
named Valentine. 

Every one knew him because of the many 
kind things he did. 

He nursed the sick. He gave clothes and 
food to the poor. 

He grew flowers and gave them to the 
children, whom he dearly loved. 

Then the kind priest grew too old to go 
among his people. This made him feel very 
sad. 

He wished to help them in some way. 

So he began writing loving messages to 
those who were sick and in trouble. 

Soon his friends began to watch for the 
kind words of the good man. The messages 
made them feel happy. 

Even the little children would say when 
they were sick, “I think Father Valentine 
will send me a letter to-day.” 

But after a time no more letters were 
received. The good old man had died. 


100 


Then every one said that such a man was 
good enough to be called a saint. 

And from that day to this he has been 
known as Saint Valentine. 

People remembered how much he had 
done to make others happy, and wished 
they might be more like him. 

So they began to celebrate his birthday 
by sending gifts and messages of love to 
their friends. 

These were called “valentines.” 

This all happened years ago, but good 
St. Valentine is still remembered on the 
fourteenth day of each February. 

“So, now, if you are ready,” said Grandma, 
“I will show you how to make valentines 
to send to your mamma and papa.” 

She gave each of the bunnies a pair of 
scissors and a sheet of white paper. 

Then she showed them how to cut a heart 
out of the white paper, and gave them little 
red hearts to paste around the edges of the 
big white heart. 


101 


Next Grandma gave Molly a picture of 
a little bunny girl, to paste on her valentine. 

And to Browny 
she gave a picture 
of a little bunny 
boy, to paste on his 
valentine. 

At last the valen¬ 
tines were made. 
Then Grandma 
said, “Now each of you may write whatever 
you wish on your valentine.” 

And what do you suppose the bunnies 
wrote? 

Molly thought hard for a while. Then 
she wrote: 

Dear Mamma mine, 

Let me be 
Yonr Valentine. 

I wish, Papa dear, 

That yon were here. 

I love yon both. 

Browny waited until Molly had finished 
her valentine. 



102 




He wished to see what she had written, 
and to write something better on his if he 
could. 



So he wrote on his valentine: 


I love you, Mamma; 

You are my star, 

Shining afar. 

I love you, Papa; 

You are my moon— 

I’ll be home soon! 

Of course this last seemed very funny, 
and every one laughed. 

But don’t you feel sure that Browny’s 
and Molly’s mamma and papa thought both 
valentines very nice? 


103 



Chief of our heroes 
And best of them all: 
Our first President,— 

Once he, too, was small. 


104 



XV 

FEBRUARY TWENTY-SECOND 

“Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle!” came a sound of 
bells. 

Browny ran out to see who was coming. 

Then he ran in again. “It’s February,” 
he said. “Come on—hurry!” 

Molly looked out at the window. “It is 
February!” she cried. “Oh, goody!” 

February had come to give the Cottontails 
another ride. 

This time he had a large white sleigh, 
drawn by four white horses. 

It was piled high with soft cushions and 
robes of fur. 

The horses had bows of red, white, and 
blue ribbon in their manes and tails. 

The lines, too, were wound with ribbons 
of red, white, and blue. 

As the Cottontails came out, February 
said, “I am glad to see you again. 


105 



Jump in! I think you will find the seats 
nice and soft. And there are plenty of 
covers to keep you warm.” 

Then “crack” went the whip, “tinkle” 
went the bells, and over the snow they 
sped. 

Presently the horses stopped at a large 
plantation, or farm, on the bank of a great 
river. 

“We are in Virginia now,” said February. 
“That great river is the Potomac. Here, in 
a house on the bank, George Washington 
was born.” 

“But where is the house?” asked Molly. 

“The house burned down when George 
was a little boy,” said February. 

“But do you see the large stone there? 
That tells us that George Washington was 


106 





born here on the twenty-second of Feb¬ 
ruary, many years ago.” 

“So it does,” said Nixie. “And where did 
he live after that?” 

“On another plantation,” said February, 
“only a short distance away.” 

And in a few minutes they were there. 

This house had stood near another 
beautiful river. 

“Right down this path,” said February, 
“little George used to 
go to the river to fish 
and swim. 

He was a tall, strong 
boy, and he used to 
run races and jump 
fences like other boys. 

He had a pretty pony, 
too, that he loved very 
much. 

He called the pony Hero, and he used 
to ride it about the plantation.” 

“Didn’t George Washington ever go to 
school?” asked Browny. 



107 


“Yes, indeed,” said February. “If he 
hadn’t gone to school he couldn’t have 
grown to be the wise man he was. 

George went to a small schoolhouse which 
stood on his father’s farm. He and a few 
other boys were the only scholars. 

George learned to read and write at this 
school. 

He used to like to write. In one of his 
writing books he copied many good rules 
or sayings. 

One of these was, ‘Always speak the 
truth.’ 

He also wrote, ‘Be careful to keep your 
promise,’ and ‘Always do your best.’ 

But, of course, little George was not 
always copying good sayings. 



108 



He liked to play games and have all sorts 
of fun. Best of all games, he liked to play 
at being a soldier. The boys liked to have 
George for their captain. 

He gave his soldiers cornstalks and 
broomsticks for guns and swords. Then 
they pretended to tight with the Indians.” 

“But where is the cherry tree?” Browny 
asked. 

“What cherry tree?” asked February. 

“Oh, I suppose Browny is thinking of 
the story of the 
hatchet and the 
cherry tree,” said 
Grandma. 

“Tell us about it, 

Grandpa!” said 
Molly. 

This is how Nixie 
told the story: 



Once George’s father gave him a nice, 
bright, sharp little hatchet. And, of course, 
George was very proud of it. 

109 


He went around trying it on everything 
and seeing how well it could cut. 

At last he went into the orchard. He 
saw there a young cherry tree. 

He said to that cherry tree, “Get out of 
my way, or I will cut you down with my 
nice, bright, sharp little hatchet.” 

The tree waved its saucy branches at him 
and said, “You can’t cut me down!” 

But little George did cut it down. And 
then he felt very sorry. 

His father was angry, of course. But 
George told the truth about it, and his 
father said he would rather lose a thousand 
cherry trees than have his son tell a lie. 

Then Grandma said, “George Washing¬ 
ton was a good son to his mother. And he 
was always polite and thoughtful of others.” 

“He was,” said February. “And when 
he grew up he became a great soldier. He 
led our armies in a great war with England. 
He made America free from English rule. 

After the war was over, and Washington 


no 


had made America free, the people chose 
him for President. He was the first 
President of the United States. 

People call him the Father of His 
Country because he did so much for us and 
helped to make our country great.” 

Then February turned his horses about 
and started for home. 

“But,” he said, “we must stop on the 
way to see the beautiful house in which 
Washington lived with his wife, Martha 
Washington.” 

And so they did. 

It was called Mount Vernon, and here 
is a picture of it. 



ill 


















Pretty are the colored eggs, 

And the Easter flowers 
Bloom in spite of chilly winds 
And the snowflake showers. 

Pretty are Dame Nature’s ways, 
Interesting her habits,— 

But, oh, what would our Easter be, 
Without the Easter rabbits! 


112 




XVI 

ME. EASTER RABBIT 

It was almost the end of March when 
the Cottontails started for Easter Town. 
And the wind was blowing, blowing, 
blowing. 

“Oo-yoo, yoo-oo-oo!” it was blowing. 

“Is it saying something?” asked Molly. 

“I believe it is,” said Grandma. “Listen!” 

Then Molly and Browny and Grandma 
and Nixie all listened. 

An d this is what they heard the wind 
saying: 

“Oo-yoo, yoo-oo, you beau-ti-ful flowers, 
wake up, wake up! 

Oo-yoo-oo, you Easter lilies, you violets, 
and you tulips, wake up! 

Wake up, oo-yoo, you trees and grasses 
and buds! 

Wake up, yoo-oo, you sleeping butterflies 
in your cocoons! 


113 


Wake up, you little chicks in the eggs! 

Wake up, you squirrels and bears! 

You have been sleeping long enough, 
yoo-oo-oo! 

The sun is here, and so is the rain. They 
are calling you back to life. 

Wake up! wake up! Oo-yoo-oo, yoo-oo!” 

“That is glad news the wind is blowing,” 
said Nixie. “And we should be thankful 
to hear it. 

I have heard my grandfather speak of a 
time when the wind was telling a differ¬ 
ent story.” 

“Please tell us the story!” said Browny. 

“It was about Mr. Easter Rabbit,” said 
Nixie. 

And this is the way Nixie’s grandfather 
used to tell it: 

Once, in a far-off country, no rain had 
fallen for many months. 

Only a few of the seeds planted by the 
farmers came up. 

The sun was very hot. The few seeds 


114 


that did raise their heads above the earth 
were soon burned to the ground. 

Everything was dead. There were no 
flowers, no fruits, no vegetables, no grains. 

This greatly troubled the fathers and 
mothers in that far-off country. 

The people still had enough to eat, but 
they had to be very saving of the things 
that had been left from the year before. 

And no one had any money. 

When Christmas came, few gifts were 
received by the children. 

But the children did not miss them, as 
in this country Easter was the holiday 
when presents were mostly given. 

As Easter drew near, the fathers and 
mothers grew more and more troubled. 

How could they buy presents for the 
children when there was no money 1 ? 

It was hard to get even coarse bread, 
now. 

But as the weather grew warmer, the 
hens began to lay more eggs. 

Then the mothers had a meeting. 


115 


One of them said, “We can give the 
children eggs for presents.” 

“But,” said another, “these the children 
have every day. Eggs would be no treat.” 

So they went back to their homes, more 
unhappy than ever. 

They said, “The children will be very sad, 
but we cannot help it. 

Easter Sunday must come and go like 
any other Sunday.” 

But that night one mother thought of 
a way to surprise her children. 

She could hardly wait until morning to 
tell the rest of the mothers about it. 

Before the next night all the mothers 
knew and were happy. But not one of the 
children knew! 

When Easter Sunday came, the people 
all went to church. 

After church, the fathers and mothers 
said they would go to the woods. 

And the children should go with them. 

“For,” said one mother, “the early spring 
flowers may be in bloom.” 


116 


At last all the fathers and mothers and 
children reached the woods. Suddenly 
shouts were heard from the children. 

“See what I have found!” 

“A red one!” 

“A yellow one!” 

“A blue one!” 

They ran to their mothers to show what 
they had found. 

Each child had a hatful of colored eggs. 

“Who laid them there?” asked the 
children. 

“They can’t be birds’ eggs, for they are 
too large. And who ever heard of hens 
laying red and yellow and blue eggs!” 

Just then a large rabbit jumped out 
from among the bushes and ran away. 

“It must have been the rabbit who laid 
the pretty colored eggs!” cried a little girl. 

And her mother said, “Perhaps it was 
Mr. Easter Rabbit.” 

And all the children cheered. 

“Hurrah for the rabbit!” they cried. 

“Hurrah for Mr. Easter Rabbit!” 


117 



Sing! Sing! 

Of what shall I sing 1 ? 

Sing of days that are here, 
Sing of those that are near. 
Sing! Sing! 

Sing of everything! 

Sing! Sing! 

Of what shall I sing? 

Sing of birds, sing of trees, 
Sing of flowers—all of these. 
Sing! Sing! 

Sing of everything! 


118 








XVII 

THE TREES AND THE BIRDS 

Browny and Molly thought Nixie’s story 
a very good story indeed. 

The Cottontails reached Easter Town 
only a few days later. And on Easter 
Sunday the two little bunnies got their 
share of colored Easter eggs. 

Then, one day, Browny looked out at 
the window. His head came just above the 
window-sill. 

Far away he could see green trees 
waving, and birds flying about. 

“Oh, Grandma,” he said, “let us go to 
the place where all the trees are waving!” 

And so Grandpa and Grandma and 
Browny and Molly went out. 

They went where the trees were waving, 
and where the birds were flying about. 

Among the trees they saw a little school- 
house, all white and green. 

119 


There were boys and girls in the school 
yard. They were planting little green 
trees near the big trees which were waving 
their branches. 

“See,” said Nixie, “the boys have dug 
holes in the ground. They have made the 
holes just large enough to hold the roots 
of the little trees.” 

Then the Cottontails watched. 

One of the boys held a little tree in place. 
Other boys and some of the girls spread out 
the roots in the hole and covered them with 
soil. 

“Why are they planting the tree?” asked 
Molly. 

“Because it is April,” said Grandma 
Cottontail, “and to-day is Arbor Day. 
Arbor Day is the trees’ holiday.” 

By and by the tree was planted. The 
children formed in a circle around it, and 
sang a pretty tree song. 

They thanked the trees for making the 
school yard look so pretty. They thanked 
them for the shade they gave in summer. 


120 



They thanked the trees for their fruits, 
and for the wood they gave. 

One of the big trees said, “Oh, I’m glad 
that the pleasant days have come again! 

Soon the robins and the bluebirds will 
sit among my branches and sing. 

Little girls with yellow curls will make 
a playhouse in my shade. The boys will 
climb my limbs and laugh and shout. 

Wouldn’t you like to be a tree and have 
all this merry company?” 

Just then a pair of birds flew up into 
the branches of the big tree. 

One of them said, “The trees are full of 
leaves now. We can build our nest.” 


121 





Then he began to sing. The other bird 
listened. 

Both of them were happy because they 
had found a pleasant place in which to 
build their nest. 

The tree asked, “What are you singing 
about, little bird?” 

And the bird answered, “Everything— 
nothing! It is because Mrs. Bird and I are 
so happy that I sing. 

This tree was our home last year. We 
had four little speckled eggs in our nest. 

Then four little birds were hatched.” 

“I remember,” said the tree. “Then you 
sang louder and more sweetly than ever.” 

“And worked harder, too,” said Mrs. Bird. 

“We had to work, to keep our little ones 
from being hungry. 

But no one was happier than we were. 
That is why we have come back again this 
year.” 

“I hope you may be as happy here as 
you were last year,” said the tree. 

“All the boys who come to this school 


122 


know how much good the birds can do. 

They never harm the birds. 

The little girls love the sweet songs of 
the birds. They love their pretty feathers. 

As for myself, I am glad to have you 
make your home in my branches.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Tree,” said Mr. Bird. 
“I know we shall be happy here.” 

“So that the children might learn to 
remember the trees and the birds, there 
came to be two more holidays,” said Nixie. 

“What two?” asked Molly. 

“Why, Arbor Day and Bird Day, of 
course!” said Nixie. 



123 






We are going out to play, 

For to-day’s the first of May, 

And our May Queen must be crowned, 
And our Maypole danced around. 

But there’ll come another day— 

That one, too, belongs to May— 

Best of all the month has seen: 
Birthday of our mother, Queen. 


124 







XVIII 

THE TWO MAY QUEENS 

It was the day after the Cottontails’ visit 
to the waving trees and the singing birds. 

Grandpa and Grandma and Browny and 
Molly were sitting in their room at the 
hotel. 

Suddenly Browny ran up to Nixie and 
whispered something into the old gentle¬ 
man’s ear. 

Molly heard what Browny whispered, and 
she cried, “Me too! Me too, Grandpa!” 

What do you suppose it was all about? 

I will tell you. Browny had said he 
wished he were at home with his mamma 
and his papa! And that is why Molly said, 
“Me too!” 

Then Nixie said, “We shall soon be at 
home. Look at the map. See, our next 
visit is to May Day. 

An ri home is just a little way beyond.” 


125 


It was on the first day of May that the 
Cottontails reached May Day. 

The morning was bright and warm, and 
the Cottontails thought they would go to 
the woods to see if they could find some 
wild-flowers. 

In the woods they could see little spring 
flowers peeping their heads up out of the 
ground. 

“See the blossoms!” said Grandma. “Here 
is one, there is another, and there!” 

Everywhere there seemed to be little 
violets and beautiful Mayflowers. 

The wind was still chilly. 

But the spring flowers are brave little 
things, and they blossom in spite of cold 
weather. 

Suddenly Browny and Molly came run¬ 
ning to where Nixie and Grandma Cottontail 
were. 

“Look! look!” they cried. “Look at all 
the boys and girls!” 

“They, too, are picking flowers,” said 
Nixie. 


126 


“And what are they going to do with 
them?” asked Molly. 

“Let us watch and see,” said Grandma. 

As the Cottontails watched, they noticed 
that each child carried a basket on his 
arm. 

It was a little basket made of dainty 
colored paper. It was called a May basket. 

The children picked all the flowers they 
wished. Then one little girl said, “Now 
let us go and dance around the Maypole.” 

So all the boys and girls ran to a grassy 
place where there were no trees. 

There, in the center of the open space, 
stood a tall pole. Ribbons of every color 
were hanging from the top of it. 

Each child took hold of the end of a 
ribbon. Then all the children danced. 

They skipped round and round, and in 
and out, until all the ribbons were twined 
around the Maypole. 

Then one little boy said, “We must make 
a crown of flowers, and choose the fairest 
maiden for Queen of the May!” 


127 



They chose the prettiest little girl and 
led her to the stump of a tree. 

There they made her sit down, and on 
her head they placed a wreath of flowers. 
They called the stump her throne. The 
wreath of flowers they called her crown. 

The children sang little songs, and 
danced around their queen. 

“Have you ever seen so lovely a queen 
as our May Queen 1 ?” they said. “She looks 
like a real queen.” 

Then a little Brown-Eyed Boy said, 
“Yet she is not so beautiful as my mother! 
I think my mother is like a queen.” 


128 









And then all the children—even the little 
May Queen—cried, “And mine! And mine!” 

“So let us keep our baskets of flowers and 
give them to our mothers,” said the Brown- 
Eyed Boy. 

“Let us run and do that right away,” 
said the May Queen. 

“Yes,” said the Brown-Eyed Boy, “and a 
week from to-day we must come to the 
woods again, to gather more flowers for 
our mothers.” 

“Why must we come a week from to¬ 
day?” asked another child. 

“Because,” said the Brown-Eyed Boy, “a 
week from to-morrow is the second Sunday 
in May. The second Sunday in May is 
Mother’s Day. 

We must be sure to give flowers to our 
mothers on Mother’s Day. Won’t they be 
happy to know that we remembered that 
day!” 

Then all the children cried, “Hurrah for 
Mother’s Day! And hurrah for the Brown- 
Eyed Boy!” 


129 



Do you ever shut your eyes 
And go sailing through the skies 
To the pleasant Land of Dreams, 
There where all is fair, it seems*? 

Where the great Peace Angel dwells, 
And the Eagle to us tells 
How in peace the Kings shall live 
And to all their friendship give*? 

Such a land there is, afar, 

Where you see the shining star, 

’Way up in the sky—so high!— 

You can see it if you try. 


130 















XIX 

THE PEACE ANGEL AND THE EAGLE 
I 

On the eighteenth day of May the Cotton¬ 
tails visited Peace Valley, to celebrate Peace 

Day. 

Peace Valley was a pleasant place, and 
Nixie and Grandma and Browny and Molly 
had a delightful time. 

But they were all very tired when they 
got back to the hotel. 

Grandma put Browny and Molly to bed 
as soon as supper was over. 

Nixie sat down in a big rocking-chair 
and fell fast asleep. 

And while he slept he had this dream: 

One day the Peace Angel sat on the top 
of a high mountain. She was weeping. 

The American Eagle was flying by, and 
he saw her. 


131 


“Why do you weep, good Angel!” he 
asked. 

“I weep,” said the Angel, “because to-day 
is Peace Day, and there is so little peace 
in the world. 

Nearly all the nations of the world are 
at war with one another.” 

“Do not weep,” said the Eagle. “Nothing 
worth while has ever been done by crying.” 

“But I have done all that I can,” said 
the Peace Angel. “The nations will not 
listen to me.” 

“Still, do not give up,” said the Eagle. 
“Perhaps I can help you. 

Meet me here again in a month.” 

Then the Eagle flew away. 

On the same day of the next month he 
returned. Again he found the Angel 
weeping. 

“Dry your eyes and come with me,” said 
the Eagle. 

“I have brought the rulers of all the 
fighting nations together. Perhaps they 
will listen to you now.” 


132 



, ' I ‘V. 

. 


So the Peace Angel and the American 
Eagle sailed away through the air. 

They flew far across the ocean, to a 
large building called the Palace of Peace. 

Here were gathered the rulers of the 
nations that were at war with one another. 

The Angel and the Eagle flew into the 
building. As they entered, they heard 
one of the rulers say, “Who started this 
war? I didn’t!” 


133 



“Nor I! Nor I!” said all the other rulers. 

“But one cannot quarrel by oneself/’ 
said the Peace Angel. 

“No matter who started the war, you 
are all to blame for it. 

Don’t you know that it is both wrong 
and stupid to fight? 

Fighting is not the right way in which 
to settle anything.” 

“But we must fight!” said the ruler whose 
army was the largest. “Do you suppose 
I would stop fighting now?” 

“Very well,” said the Peace Angel. “I 
have waited long enough. 

I will take away from all of you your 
armies, and your ships, and all the things 
useful to you in war. 

Just one thing will I let each of you 
have—that is, a gun. 

If you rulers feel that you must fight, 
fight one another! Do not make your 
people fight for you. 

If all of you are killed, I shall not be 
to blame.” 


134 


“No! no!” cried all the rulers. “We do 
not wish to die! Let us go back to our 
countries and we will stop the war.” 

“You may go, then,” said the Peace 
Angel. “But you must promise that you 
will never bring your countries to war 
with one another again.” 

“We promise,” said the rulers. “Only 
please let us go!” 

Then the Peace Angel touched her hand 
to the head of each ruler and the touch 
warmed his heart. 

“I believe it is safe to leave them now.” 
said the Eagle. 

As the rulers were shaking hands with 
one another, the Peace Angel and the 
American Eagle flew out of the Palace of 
Peace and up, up, into the air. 


135 


Grow, flowers, grow! 

For here’s the month of May! 
The Spring’s in green array, 
And everything is gay. 

Grow, flowers, grow! 

Come, flowers, come! 
Remember the soldier brave; 

To decorate his grave, 

There, where the flag doth wave, 
Come, flowers, come! 


136 









XX 

THE PEACE ANGEL AND THE EAGLE 
. II 

As they flew through the air, the Peace 
Angel said to the American Eagle: 

“It makes me happy to feel that the 
world will soon be at peace once more. 

And I don’t know how to thank you 
for the help you have been to me.” 

“I feel honored to have been able to 
help you,” said the Eagle. 

“If people would not get angry so easily,” 
said the Angel, “or so often, this world 
would be a pleasanter place to live in than 
it is now.” 

“And everybody would be a great deal 
happier, besides,” said the Eagle. 

Then, as the Angel looked at the Eagle, 
she noticed that the great bird had a small 
gold band around his neck. 

From the band hung a gold medal. 


137 


Oh one side of it were the words, “In 
God We Trust.” 

On the other side was stamped a picture 
of the Goddess of Liberty. 

“Love and Liberty!” said the Angel. 
“What two beautiful thoughts your medal 
bears!” 

“I am glad you think so,” said the Eagle. 

Then his sharp eyes grew very bright. 

“Would you like to know how I received 
this medal?” he asked. 

The Angel said she would very much 
like to know. 

“Well, I will tell you, then,” said the 
Eagle. 

“My country is called the United States. 

Once there was a war there which we 
call the Civil War, because it was a war 
between two parts of our own country. 

It was fought while Abraham Lincoln 
was President of the United States. 

The people of the northern part of the 
country and the people of the southern part 
quarreled. Then they fought. 


138 


It was very sad. The quarrel might have 
been settled without fighting. 

And many, many brave soldiers were 
killed before the fight was ended. 

The soldiers of the North were called the 
‘Boys in Blue,’ because they wore blue 
uniforms. 

The soldiers of the South were called the 
‘Boys in Gray,’ because they were dressed 
in gray. 

The war lasted a long time, but at last 
it was over. 

Then by and by 
the people said, ‘We 
must teach our chil¬ 
dren to honor the 
soldiers who died 
fighting so bravely.’ 

So, in many of our 
villages and towns 
and cities, monu¬ 
ments were built. 

And one day each year was set apart on 
which to honor our soldiers. 



139 




May thirtieth is the day. We call it 
Memorial Day. 

Sometimes we call it Decoration Day. 

On that day the grave of each soldier is 
marked by a flag and decorated with 
flowers.” 

“That is a pretty custom,” said the Peace 
Angel. “I hope the children help decorate 
the graves.” 

“They do,” said the American Eagle. 
“They pick bouquets of pretty flqwers and 
put them on the graves. 

But while the people are laying the 
flowers on the soldiers’ graves, they pray 
that there may never be another war in our 
country.” 

“They do well!” said the Angel. 

“And that is how I came to get this 
medal,” said the Eagle. 

“The people said, ‘The Eagle is the 
emblem of our country. 

He travels everywhere. 

Let him carry our message of love and 
liberty to all parts of the world. 


140 


Where there is love, there is peace. Where 
there is liberty, there is happiness.’ 

So they placed this gold band and medal 
around my neck. And I have worn them 
ever since. 

The words ‘In God We Trust’ mean Love 
and Peace. 

The Goddess of Liberty means Liberty 
and Happiness.” 

“I hope all the children of your country 
may understand that,” said the Angel. 

Then the Angel and the Eagle flew away, 
away out of Nixie’s dream. 



141 



Q 



“ ’Tis the star-spangled banner, 
Oh! long may it wave 
O’er the land of the free, 

And the home of the brave.” 



142 





























XXI 

THE FLAG OF THE UNITED STATES 

When Nixie awoke the little Cottontails 
were fast asleep. 

Grandma Cottontail was still up, but she 
said it was time for Nixie and herself to 
go to bed. So Nixie did not say anything 
about his dream until the next morning. 

Then when the Cottontails heard it, they 
said, “Oh, what a beautiful dream that 
was!” 

And Molly added, “I should like to pick 
some flowers—red, and white, and blue 
ones—and lay them on the soldiers’ graves.” 

“And I should like to carry a flag and 
place it beside the flowers,” said Browny. 

“Let us all go, on Memorial Day, to pick 
flowers to lay on the soldiers’ graves,” said 
Grandma. 

“And may we not each have a flag?” 
asked Browny. 


143 


“We may,” said Nixie. “I will get the 
flags.” 

And so he did. 

And on Memorial Day the Cottontails 
picked flowers and laid them on the soldiers’ 
graves. They stood the little flags beside 
the graves. 

As they looked around, they saw a large 
flag waving, at a distance. 

Browny said, “Look, Grandpa! the flag 
is waving for us to come!” 

“Let us go and see what it wants,” said 
Molly. 

So they went. 

The large flag was only half-way up on 
the pole. 

“Is the flag coming down?” asked 
Browny. 

Then before any one had time to say a 
word, a strange voice said: 

“No, I am not coming down. I am hung 
only half-way up on the pole to-day, as a 
sign of mourning for the dead soldiers.” 

The Cottontails looked around to see 


144 


who was talking, but they could find 
no one. 

Then the same voice said, “Won’t 
you come to my birthday party? 

On my birthday I shall fly gayly 
from the very top of the pole! And 
I shall dance and be merry.” 

“When is your birthday, and 
who are you?” asked Browny. 

“I am the Flag of the 
United States,” said 
the strange voice. 

“And my birth¬ 
day is the four¬ 
teenth day of 
June.” 

“Oh!” said Browny. 
meet you.” 

“How old are you, Mr. Flag?” asked 

Molly. 

“I am over a 
hundred years 
old,” said the 
flag. 



“I am glad to 



• r\’ 


i 


145 









“At one time our country had no flag 
that was really its own. 

The people in different parts of the 
country used any flag they wished. 

So there were many kinds of flags. 

Then General George Washington drew 
a picture of a flag that would do for all 
the people.” 

“Are you that flag?” asked Nixie. 

“Not exactly,” said the Flag of the 
United States. 

“That flag had on it thirteen stripes— 
seven red ones, and six white ones—just 
as I have now. But it had only thirteen 
white stars in the blue field in the corner.” 

“You have many more stars than that,” 
said Grandma Cottontail. 

“That is because there is a star for each 
one of the states that make up the United 
States,” said the Flag. 

“When the first flag was made, there 
were only thirteen states. But now there 
are forty-eight. 

If you will count my stars, you will find 


146 


that I have just forty-eight. There are six 
rows and eight stars in each row.” 

“Who made the 
flag that George 
Washington 
drew?” asked 
Molly. 

“A lady named 
Betsy Ross,” said 
the Flag of the 
United States. 

“She made the 
first flag. 

Oh, how the soldiers of our country loved 
the new flag! 

And the little boys! And the little girls! 
They loved it, too. 

And I am glad that they did, because the 
red in the flag means ‘Be brave,’ the white 
means ‘Be pure,’ and the blue means ‘Be 
true.’ ” 



147 










“There are many flags in many lands, 
There are flags of every hue. 

But there is no flag however grand 
Like our own Red, White and Blue!” 


148 










XXII 

THE FLAG’S PARTY 

Browny and Molly were happy bunnies 
as they said good-by to the Flag of the 
United States. 

They liked the story the Flag had told 
them. And they were glad because of 
that. 

But they were gladder still because the 
Flag of the United States had invited them 
to his party. 

Uncle Sam always celebrates the Flag’s 
birthday on the fourteenth day of June. 

Of course Nixie and Grandma Cottontail 
also were invited to the party. 

And you may be sure they went. 

At the party they met the flags of the 
other countries. But there was none so 
handsome as the Flag of the United 
States! 

Then as the flags of other countries shook 


149 


hands with the Flag of the United States, 
they said, “How do you do, Old Glory!” 

That is, some of them said that. 

The others said, “Long live the Stars and 
Stripes!” 

“What do they mean by Old Glory and 
Stars and Stripes?” asked Molly. 

“Oh, those are just pet names for the 
Flag of the United States,” said Nixie. 

“How many flags of the United States 
are here to-day?” Nixie asked Uncle 
Sam. 

“Well, I couldn’t say exactly,” said Uncle 
Sam, “but there must be several millions 
of them. 

Every schoolhouse in the land has sent 
its flag to the party. 

And so has many a home.” 

Just then a great many little boys and 
girls came marching along. And each of 
them carried a flag, too. 

You should have seen the children—how 
proudly they marched along! 

As they came to where stood the Flag 


150 



whose party it was, they raised their right 
hands and said: 

“We give our heads and our 
hearts to God and our country. One 
country, one language, one flag . 1 ’ 

It was a pretty sight. 

When the party was over, good Uncle 
Sam came to shake hands with the Cotton¬ 
tails. 

He gave each of them a flag, and said, 
“We are going to have another party on 
the fourth of July. Then is the birthday 
of our country. 

You must be sure to come!” 

And, of course, the Cottontails said they 
would be very glad to go. 


151 









“Hats off! 

Along the street there comes 
A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums, 
A flash of color beneath the sky. 
Hats off! 

The flag is passing by.” 


152 














XXIII 

THE FOURTH OF JULY 

The Cottontails did not forget Uncle 
Sam. You may be sure of that! 

Of course he was not a real uncle! “Uncle 
Sam” was only a pet name for him. 

His right name was United States. 

But he was so good, and the people loved 
him so, that they all called him “Uncle 
Sam.” 

On the Fourth of July the Cottontails 
went to his party. 

And such a party as it was! 

Who were the guests? 

Why, there were Mr. Independence Hall, 
Miss Liberty Bell, Mr. Bell-Ringer, the 
Honorable Bugle, Master Firecracker, and 
many, many others. 

Uncle Sam had a regular program at his 
party. 

An d this is how it was: 


153 


Uncle Sam: To-day is the birthday of 
our country. We call it the Fourth of 
July. But its right name is Independence 
Day. I will tell you why. 

A great many years ago this 
country was not free. It was 
not the United States. 

The King of England was oin¬ 
king. 

But he made unjust laws, and 
the people would not obey them. 

They said, “We will not have 
him for our king. We will make 
our own laws.” 

But the king said, “I will send soldiers 
to your country. 

And they will make 
you obey my laws.” 

Bugle: Toot! toot! 
toot! We won’t obey 
your laws, because 
they are not just! 

Drum: Rub-a-dub! 

Rub, rub, rub-a-dub- 




154 


dub! Follow me, sol¬ 
diers! We will fight 
the king’s army! 

Firecracker: I am 
only a firecracker, 
but this is the way 
the guns sounded 
when the soldiers were fighting to free our 
country—bang! bang! bang! 

Inde p endence 
Hall: Here come 

the leaders! They 
will meet in my hall 
to plan what shall 
be done. The king is 
sending new armies 
to fight our soldiers. 

One of the Leaders: Here is a paper I 
have written. It is called the Declaration 
of Independence. 

It tells the world that our country means 
to be free from England. Will you sign it? 

Other Leaders: We will. We think it is 
the best thing to do. 




155 








Little Boy: This is the Fourth of July. 
The Declaration of Independence is signed! 

Ring, ring, grandpa! 
Ring the bell for liberty! 

Bell-Ringer: I have 

been waiting a long time 
for this glad news to tell 
the people that they are 
to be free. 

Liberty Bell: Bim- 
baum! Bim-baum! This 
is the happiest day of my life. Bim-baum! 

This is news that will be welcomed every¬ 
where. Bim-baum! 

People: Our country is to be free! 
Hurrah for the Fourth of July! 

Hurrah for the birthday of our country! 




156 


XXIV 
HOME AGAIN 



“Now we know what the Fourth of July 
really means,” said Browny and Molly. 

Then the Cottontails hurried away to the 
train, and the train hurried them away 
toward home. 

The next morning they reached Nixie’s 
farm and found Mr. and Mrs. Spotty and 
Bunny Girl and Thumpy waiting for them. 

And, oh, how glad they were to be at 
home again! 

“My, how you have grown!” said Papa 


157 












and Mamma Spotty Cottontail to Browny 
and Molly. 

The two little rabbits could not talk fast 
enough. They tried to tell their papa and 
mamma about everything they had seen. 

Mr. and Mrs. Spotty were glad to hear 
all that Browny and Molly told them. 
What made them happiest, though, was to 
have the children with them once more. 

“We will never let you go away again,” 
said Mamma Spotty. 

“No, indeed!” cried their papa. “We miss 
you too much.” 

Then as Nixie settled down in his cozy 
chair, he said, “After all, there is no place 
like home!” 

“But we never, never shall forget the 
happy times we had in Holiday-Land,” 
said Browny and Molly. 


158 





A WORD ABOUT THE BOOK 


Nixie Bunny in Holiday-Land is the third of the Nixie 
Bunny books. It is a study in patriotism and literature. It is 
also the 1 ‘play” book of the series. 

Children need to learn to play as well as to work. Holidays 
are play days and should be enjoyed to the utmost. However, 
to enjoy anything fully we must approach it understanding^. 
A knowledge of the meaning of our holidays is the first step 
toward complete enjoyment of them. The author has described 
simply and in some detail the significance of the various days 
celebrated by the American people. The conversational story 
form has been freely used, as in the two preceding volumes of 
the series, because teachers of experience know that such 
material gives the most vivid impression of reality. 

The rabbit continues the medium for the story telling, as his 
presence has been found to add to the interest. Such narrative 
is, also, more persuasive than examples from human conduct 
are likely to be, especially if there is any sign that the latter 
have been drawn for the purpose of moral influence or guidance. 
The matter of the book rests on a substantial historical and 
literary basis. The language used is that of ordinary life; the 
words are those common to second and third readers, and which 
every child should command; and the stories themselves consti¬ 
tute an important item in education. 

The success of the two preceding volumes of the series need 
not be spoken of here, though it has been such as to prove most 
gratifying to the author, far exceeding his fondest expectations. 
If the children derive from this volume the pleasure which they 
have found in the other books, it will have fully served its 
purpose, because they will then draw their own lessons from 
those which the book attempts to teach. 

The fourth book, Nixie Bunny in Faraway-Lands, will com¬ 
plete the Nixie Bunny Series as originally planned. It will 
introduce the American child to his foreign cousins, and will 
endeavor to point out to him some of the things which through 
custom are taught children of other countries which it would 
be well for our own children to know. 




































































































































































